


Plastoid Crown

by stitchy



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fairy Tales, Finn POV, Fluff, Humor, M/M, roleplay as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchy/pseuds/stitchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe didn't ask the ewoks to treat him like a prince, honest!<br/>Now, Finn on the other hand...  ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plastoid Crown

**Author's Note:**

> This is a shameless excuse to throw around some "Your Worship"s. I'm only human.  
> #PoeIsTheLeia
> 
> Beta'ed by StarMaple, my partner in crime!  
> PSA: Betas are great! If you don't have one when you write, solicit one on your blog! If you don't write/aren't too busy writing at the moment, offer to beta for others! It makes a good community and great fic :)

     General Organa leans against her desk, arms crossed and grinning. Usually, her demeanor in a meeting is urgent and straightforward- so the coy way she tilts her head has Finn on alert. Was this about last week’s... _indiscretion_ in the shield bunker? At the time he had been certain that Poe had ducked all of his naked self behind a crate, but now...

     “I’ve had a message from an old friend,” says the General. “He has something that will interest you, Finn, but his people don’t have the resources to leave their homeworld and it’s too sensitive to send by courier, so you’ll have to pick it up for yourself.”

     Finn glances at Poe by his side. “Is Commander Dameron flying me?” Between his physical recovery, the short on resources, and launching himself into work with the Intelligence division, there just hasn’t been an opportunity to train as a pilot yet.

     “It’d be my pleasure,” Poe nods.

     “I’m sure it would.” General Organa clears her throat knowingly and Finn does not fall over, _somehow_. “I hear that you're involved with profiling worlds that the First Order harvests for its unwitting troopers.”

     “Yes Ma’am,” says Finn, glad to stick to a work-related topic. While Resistance Intelligence combs the galaxy for reports of mass kidnappings and works on hacking what remains of the Order’s mainframe after Starkiller, he’s had a pet project of his own. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for any third parties that may have been involved. Mercenaries,” he says seriously.

     It was slow going. While a number of crews were rumored to be kidnapping for the Order, the sort of scum who take contracts for stolen children are, of course, also unscrupulous bookkeepers.

     “Well, there’s been a break!” the General declares. “Wicket and his people had a run in with some Trandoshan slavers. They walloped ‘em good and when they started scrapping the ship afterwards, they stumbled upon record of contact with the First Order.”  
  
     “As in _hardcopies_?” Finn asks, not believing the good luck.  
  
     “As in _Wicket Wystri Warrick_?” Poe asks, at nearly the same moment.

     General Organa nods to both. “You’re going to have to pry the motherboards out of the Trandoshan ship since the ewoks gutted the power cells, but Wicket says they’re ours for the taking.”  
  
     Finn feels all the blood drain from his face. “Ewoks? Oh _no_...”

-

     Perhaps Finn hadn’t been quite the model stormtrooper in hindsight, but no one could deny that he _had_ been top of his class in their studies of historical battles. He knew the tactical ins and outs of thousands of famous conflicts spanning the recorded existence of the galaxy. From the First Order’s perspective, there were few modern incidents as lamented as the Battle of Endor. Finn’s lessons had been unclear on just why the terrible beasts of that forest moon joined with the Rebellion, but the destruction the ewoks wrought was undeniable and unsettling.

     “Who doesn’t love ewoks?!” Poe asks gleefully as they prepare for take-off.  
  
     A chill runs up Finn’s spine. “Are you kidding? They _slaughtered_ the Empire. The old timers said ewoks ate the brains of dead stormtroopers out of their helmets like festive soup bowls!” He cups his hands to illustrate his horror, a grimace twisting his face.

     Poe waves it off. “Aww, I don’t believe that.” Rebels like Poe’s parents were on the winning side, so yeah- probably they didn’t go home to tell the next generation the same horror stories little baby Finn had heard.

     Then he has a terrible thought. “Oh damn, what if they smell the trooper on me?”

     Although the ground crew are waving their batons to signal readiness for departure, Poe stops what he’s doing and hops out of the pilot’s seat to plop into Finn’s lap. He wraps his arms around Finn’s shoulders and nuzzles his face into Finn’s neck, scrubbing it pleasantly with his stubbled cheeks. Finn grips into his waist, confused what brought this on, but not complaining.

     “There!” says Poe, pulling back. “Now they’ll only smell me all over you. You’re safe.” With that he kisses Finn on the nose and gets back into his own seat.  
  
     While Poe re-buckles his harnesses Finn sighs and sits back. “If I see so much as a button made out of Trandoshan hide I am outta there.”

     “Using every last part of the reptile is just being economical,” Poe laughs. He catches Finn’s still worried look when he leans to the far side of the console to flip the few last switches. “They’re harmless,” he adds, holding his hand over his heart in oath.

     “I’ll remind you of that when I rescue you from a spit roast.”

-

     Okay, so they are not the firebreathing, towering, two-Chewbaccas-wide monsters Finn expected. It wouldn’t be the first time the Order was vague about historical details to preserve the legacy of the Empire from embarrassment. They are...sort of cute. And very resourceful.

     Finn and Poe work all day with a trio of ewoks who are responsible for dismantling the captured Trandoshan vessel; Frids, Luma, and Skit. They speak very little Basic at the beginning of the day, but catch on quick, and their language is intuitive. With the help of their new nimble-fingered friends they uninstall the pieces they need and stay to help break down the rest.

     “It’s no trouble,” Finn says, hefting what was once an alluvial dampener. The ewoks tilt their heads in confusion- they expected the two visitors to take what was agreed and then leave. Poe strings together enough of their language to convey _, You help us, we help you_.

     Poe is the goodnatured sort who’ll help a stranger move furniture in their quarters, or linger after diner to do the wash-up anyway- but Finn relishes the opportunity to use some elbow grease, specifically. So much of the work he’s been doing for the Resistance is cerebral and strategic, heavily laden with moral imperative. This is just honest physical labor he can tire himself out with, for once, and the ewoks all marvel at the relatively tremendous loads he can carry by himself. It doesn’t hurt the ego.

     The heap of metal scrap dwindles all afternoon as they pack it on wooden carts to distribute throughout the village. The ewoks do their best to explain how they will make troughs for their livestock with the raw material, and make tools, or reinforce their buildings. As they travel through the forest toward Bright Tree Village, Finn starts to notice familiar blocky shapes of engineering that have already been woven into the ewoks own wood carved designs. There are sentry towers built with the legs of felled AT-STs, and cabins made from their cockpits, in and out of which young wokling dart and play in a game of tag. It reminds him of the description of Rey’s home on Jakku in the _Hellhound Two_ walker.

     Luma announces their arrival at Bright Tree Village, and though Finn can hear chatter and the musical flutter of pipes indicating a crowd, he cannot see it until he notices Poe looking skyward and grinning. Finn goes cross eyed trying to make sense of the complicated system of bridges and huts built several meters off the ground. Several ewoks drop down on ropes to meet their delivery of Trandoshan ship parts.

     For the most part, Finn is content on the forest floor and leaves the vertical antics to the ewoks. Heights are fine, Finn _respects_ heights, but they aren’t his ideal pastime. Poe, meanwhile, is in his element. He readily clambers up knotted ladders with bundled loads strapped to his back, and even comes down flying on the swinging ropes. _Pilots_.

     They come down to the last few items to be dispersed shortly before sunset. The team splits, with Poe and Skit leaving to haul the pieces for the Resistance back to their transport, while Finn stays with Frids and Luma to pulley a large piece of hull up into the trees. As far as he can tell, the ewoks intend to fashion it into a roof on one of the many rustic structures above. Why anyone would want to live in a tree when there’s so much unused space on the ground is beyond him, but to each their own.

     Two hours later, the hull is secured and Finn has survived his ascent into the trees. With his job done, Finn looks around at Bright Tree Village from the intended angle, now lit up with torches to suit its name. It’s charming, really- built almost entirely out of opposite elements from most places he has been. There’s no stone or glass, very little metal- and none of the pathways were designed with vehicles in mind. As the tallest being in town, he can see clear over many of the buildings. As he scopes out his surroundings he realizes that he hasn’t seen Poe come back from his run to the transport.

     Once he determines what direction they came from, Finn tiptoes up to a lowly railed platform edge. With his position high off the ground, he can just make out the landing site, but there definitely aren’t any electric lights on out there as there would be if Poe was still puttering about in the ship. Crouching to ewok eye level, Finn starts asking around if anyone has seen him. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed while he was too busy trying not to fall and break his neck.

     “I know you know who I’m talking about. Poe? The only other human on the planet? Relatively bald? C’mon.”

     Frids and Luma just utter non committal noises and shrug their furry little shoulders, but another, light gray ewok bustles between them and up to Finn, snorting her shiny brown nose and baring her teeth slightly.

     Finn recoils with his hands up. “I’m cool, I’m cool! I’ve been here all day, just ask these guys.”

     The gray ewok chitters to Luma, who agrees, then pounds her own chest in introduction. “Mreet.”

     “Nice to... Mreet you?” Finn says uncertainly, as she suddenly grabs his hand and starts dragging him toward the nearest bridge before he can object. It sways ominously as they cross, and the handrails are half a meter lower than than Finn would prefer. He can’t really see the ground in the twilight, but he knows it's _far enough._  “Listen, I gotta check in with my buddy. I can’t really go with you right now.”

     Mreet stops while they’re half way and plants her hands on her hips as if Finn is being especially dimwitted. “Finn Poe mates?”  
  
     “Gee, word really gets around.”

     Mreet yanks the bottom of Finn’s jacket so hard that he half-kneels again, and sniffs at his face like before. “Mates,” she decides. Then she waves her arm in a very clear _Follow Me_ motion and takes off across the rest of the bridge. Finn follows her around a circuit of five more bridges and platforms and ducks his head into a large but low-ceilinged hut filled with candles and soft curtained windows.

     Sitting on the floor with his legs crossed amidst a horde of delighted ewoks is Poe. Somehow, he’s come into possession of a light brown shirt Finn has never seen before (though they share nearly all of their clothes) and a handmade crown of highly polished shards of white plastoid strung together with what Finn can only assume is salvaged wire from previous non-Endorian ships. The closest of the ewoks are arranging tiny violet flowers into the the curls of his hair and cooing adoringly.

     “Finn!” Poe says upon seeing him, his smile wide and flashing even in the low light. He gets to his feet and nods to Finn’s escort. “Thank you, Mreet.”

     The gray ewok bows deeply to Poe and speaks to the others, rounding them up. In unison, they mob Finn into the middle of the room in front of Poe, tugging on his hands and jacket, pulling him into a low crouch.  
  
     “Uhm, what’s going on here?” Finn has a feeling he’s meant to bow, and as soon as he does, the ewoks let him go. Luckily the roof in the middle of the hut is higher than by the door, and he does not hit his head.

     Poe grins. “Best guess? I am being honored as a deity of charm and beauty,” he says airly, offering Finn his hand.  
  
     Finn takes it. “I can get behind that.”

     Around them, the group of ewoks start to peel away, all except for one. He’s shorter than many, but certainly older, and wears a reddish hood and carries a walking stick. Finn can tell his fur was once a rich brown, but is now drabbed by age. “This is Wicket,” Poe introduces.

     There are people that Finn can’t help but feel defferential around, whether or not he knows their reputation. It’s like a radar. Something (maybe the Force?) just whispers to him that he is in a Great Presence- and Wicket trips all those alarms. The ancient ewok bows his head then looks up at Finn with dark eyes so soulful and friendly he can’t imagine ever having mistrusted the ewoks at all.

     “Leia Leafbrother?” he asks.

     “Yeah. You too?”

     Wicket nods and speaks very fondly in his own language- that much Finn can tell from the suffixes. He has trouble picking out any particular words to pass along to The General, but the musical way that Wicket intones her name feels like enough. He practices the shape of it with his tongue silently so that he can remember.

     “Thank you for telling us about the ship,” Finn says to Wicket when he seems to be at the end of his thoughts. “I think it will help a lot of people.”

     “Leia- all of us in Resistance owe you one. _Again_ ,” says Poe.

     With a little bark of a laugh and leaning heavily on his stick, Wicket bids them a goodnight and then leaves.

     When they’re alone at last, Finn lifts a hand to touch the edge of one of the glinting white pieces atop Poe’s head. It was definitely made from a fallen stormtroopers helmet, but he finds that he doesn’t mind. Once upon a time, the ewoks had been invaded and fought bravely against an overpowered enemy and then made something good from the ruins. He can only hope that the people who face the First Order now can be as resilient.

     “Get everything to the ship all right?” he asks, slipping his hand to the side of Poe’s face.

     “Mhmm.” Poe nuzzles into Finn’s palm. “Grabbed our things too so we can stay here for the night. Then the ewoks saw me washing my face and got all excited, so I rolled with it.”

     Finn strokes the corner of Poe’s smile with his thumb. “So while I’ve been sweating and getting rope burn all evening, you’ve been getting pampered?” Not that Finn minds at all, it’s just that Poe is fun to tease. Probably because he was raised as an only child, he always takes the bait.

     “I didn’t ask them to! I think because I came on Princess Leia’s behalf they just...assumed.” Poe looks down at himself and smooths his new shirt primly.

     Pulling Poe toward him by the hips, Finn laughs. “You can’t impersonate royalty!”  
  
     “You sound just like Threepio,” says Poe, with a malicious scrunch of his nose.  
  
     Finn gasps. “Take that back!”  
  
     “Make me.” No sooner do those two fatal words leave his mouth, then Finn suddenly bends to catch him behind the knees and shoulders, lifting Poe into his arms. “Unhand me!” Poe cries. “Don’t you see the crown? I’m _very important_.”  
  
     Finn can’t argue with that. Here in his arms, Poe is the center of his galaxy- the brightness he revolves around, measures his days by, and warms himself with. He spins on the spot, so that the room full of curtains and candles blur into their own pocket of hyperspace, hearts speeding away. Some of the flowers stuck in Poe’s hair fall, littering the floor. Poe tucks his face into Finn’s neck, with breathy laughs puffing on his skin. When he brings them to a standstill again, it is facing a low, lumpy mat. It’s probably generously sized for an ewok or two, but will be a bit of a squeeze for them unless they're practically on top of each other. Since that’s not something Finn would consider a _drawback_ , he crosses the hut and lays Poe down gently, crown and all. Finn can only fit one knee on their tiny little mattress, and chuckles when he catches himself thinking that he’d sleep with Poe on a handkerchief if he had to. Of course he would- it’s _Poe._  
  
     “Well, your worship,” Finn says, lowering himself over Poe, “-you’ve been away from your subjects for too long. They wish to practice their devotion to you.”

     “Oh, swoon,” Poe snorts.

     Finn fixes Poe with a challenging look. “Do you want to play prince or not?”

     Poe wraps his arms around Finn’s neck and looks up at him, full of adoration. His crown is askew at a playful angle and the light of the surrounding candles flickers on its ‘jewels’. “If you’re playing my intrepid hero, of course I do,” he says sincerely. “Have you come to rescue me?”

     “I have,” says Finn. And he always will. He takes the business of rescuing others very seriously. “-if you’ll rescue me too?”

     “Anything for my knight in plastoid armor,” Poe purrs. His fingers scratch pleasantly at the back of Finn’s head, electrifying the nerves down his spine. “What can I do?”

     Finn screws up his face in thought, trying to think of something native to crowns and towers and deep, deep love. The holonovels the pilots are always passing around might have just the thing. ”I’m under a spell that can only be broken with true love’s kiss,” he decides.

     A twisty little curl of a smile crosses Poe’s face. “A _terrible spell_ , you say?” Finn nods slowly, leaning close, but suddenly Poe claps a hand over his mouth. “Wait! If this kiss is going to break the spell, it should really be _a very good kiss_.”

     “Ffa befft,” Finn agrees, muffled.

     “Then we shouldn’t take any chances! We should probably practice.”

     Before Poe even has a chance to draw back his hand from covering Finn’s mouth, he clasps it and hastily presses a kiss into the middle of Poe’s palm. It doesn’t do to dawdle when it comes to True Love, he knows. He helps himself to several more kisses that trail down Poe’s wrist until he is interrupted by the sleeve of the shirt gifted by the ewoks. Finn sits back, and as soon as he is upright Poe gets the idea, sitting and shoving the hem of Finn’s shirt up his body while Finn plucks the crown off his head, scattering several more flowers.

     Shirts cast aside, Finn dives back in, kissing the inside of Poe’s wrist, then the soft crook of his arm, and up and up to his neck. He loves this man. He loves the length of his arms; perfect to wrap him in. He loves the lengths he would go to keep his promises, and his most favorite promise. _“It’s always gonna be you and me, buddy. As far as I’m concerned, we took that mission when we met and I’m not done until I’m dead.”_ Crash landings, airlocks, opposite ends of the galaxy- whatever. They’ll always battle their way back to each other, then fight back to back.

     Beneath his lips, Finn can feel Poe suck a surprised breath as his hands shove into the waist of his pants. “Not very gentlemanly,” Poe breathes.

     Finn nips at him. “Pfft, _gentlemanly_.” He gets a good handful of Poe’s backside, pulling him in closer and rolling them together. With a delectable little moan, Poe retaliates using privileged information. He slowly draws one finger down Finn’s back starting at the nape, feather light. He only gets as far as between Finn’s shoulder blades before Finn breaks off from mouthing hot, wet kisses across his chest. “You’re askin’ for it, pal.”  
  
     Poe smirks up at him. “I’m tryin’.”  
  
     When Finn kisses him it tastes like the sweet air of the forest. The kiss is life and the whisper of things growing- his heart expanding until it's too much to be contained. He pulls back to look at Poe and the hammering in his chest is so forceful it ought to leave a bruise. “I love you, Poe,” he murmurs, then he bends to kiss him again.

     “I love-- you too,”  Poe answers around kisses. Finn chases the sighs that slip out with the words, licking into his mouth and along the edges of his teeth. They fold their hands around each others faces, guiding and giving. It’s something like flying and gunning- just another configuration they take to naturally. They move and breathe as one, lips meeting and melding them together. When Finn shudders, Poe holds him tight. “Did it work?” he asks.  
  
     “Did what work?” Finn’s brows draw together, and he sits back, worried he’s forgotten something important.  
  
     Poe laughs in a huff and pushes up on his hands to sit. “Breaking the spell!”

     “Oh, I totally forgot about that. Sure.” Not that playing Prince and Knight isn’t fun- but playing Poe and Finn is pretty enthralling in its own right, in his opinion. Finn grabs the plastoid crown and drops it on Poe’s head again, pressing him with a light kiss. “Your most handsome highness.”

     “You’re one to talk, Finn.” Poe chuckles and lifts one hand to Finn’s chest. “I like your armor,” he says, tracing the definition of the muscles, then tracing down, down. “But I bet it’s real _hard_ to lug it around all day. I could help you _get it off_.”

     “Poe, be serious!”

     “I am,” Poe says gravely. “You are seriously hot.”

     Finn freezes, like he’s been caught trespassing. It’s one thing for them to get a little handsy while they’re visiting an ally on Resistance business, but-  “We can’t-- do that! On Endor!?” _Of all places!_ Finn lowers his voice. “There are small fluffy bears here, Poe.”

     Poe slips the hand on Finn’s chest around his neck, pulling him back down into the bed. “Buddy, do I have news for you- everyone gets laid on Endor. It’s traditional.” Unconvinced, Finn resists the impulse to push back into Poe when he rocks his hips into him. He wants to though. He really really wants to.

     “Well-”

     Poe arches one eyebrow. “Why do you think two thirds of the human army brats in the Resistance have birthdays in the same week?”

     That’s- _huh_. Not something Finn has really put together before. There sure are a lot of people born 5 ABY running around, now that he thinks about it... But there are better things to do than make lists.  
  
     Finn melts back into Poe’s arms. “Keep the crown, lose the pants,” he rumbles. “The kingdom will be fine without us for a bit.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [art by me! stitchyarts on tumblr ](http://stitchyarts.tumblr.com/tagged/star%20wars)


End file.
